


More Time

by LtLime23



Series: Adiona One Shots [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, Feels, Grief, Heartbreak, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:18:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLime23/pseuds/LtLime23
Summary: I've wanted to write this scene for a long time but I've never felt like I could find the right tone to do it justice.  Hopefully this comes close.This is written in first person from the perspective of Suvi Anwar and takes place halfway through Calling Adiona.





	More Time

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this scene for a long time but I've never felt like I could find the right tone to do it justice. Hopefully this comes close.
> 
> This is written in first person from the perspective of Suvi Anwar and takes place halfway through Calling Adiona.

I thought I’d have more time.

Maybe everybody does, there isn’t any comfort in that thought though.  I’m not entirely sure if I’ll ever find comfort again.  Maybe that sounds dramatic, but right now, it’s all I have.  Maybe in time.

My alarm sounds and I shut it off before the first beep is over.  I’ve been anticipating its call all night.  I haven’t slept.  I’ve been staring at the blank ceiling of the hotel.  Occasionally getting up to look out at the blinking lighthouse when the mattress threatened to suffocate me.

I pray the nights away.  Requesting the sun to rise sooner so I don’t have to lie alone in the darkness.  Pleading, bargaining, and begging.  I can’t even remember what I’ve promised to sacrifice for just one more moment.

A handful of seconds, is all I want for.

I never get an answer.

Just haunted by six words.

I. Thought. I’d. Have. More. Time.

            -----------------------------------------------------------

The shower is hotter than I’d usually have it, I need the sting, that slight itch as my skin prickles against the pinpricks of fiery droplets.  I wash with your favourite soap, the one that smells like lemons and seaweed.  I want to be enveloped in you.  It’s all I’ve wanted from the instant we met.

I remember that moment.  Endlessly.

The taste of tart fur covering my tongue from too much whiskey the night before.  You stood in profile lost in the view from our window.  The sun brushed your cheek and you broke out in a smile at the feeling of its heat on your skin.  I knew. 

I wanted to see that smile forever.

I have hundreds of these memories, fragments of time when I slipped further and further into you.  I’m scared as the days pass I won’t see them so clearly.  I find myself frustrated with my own inability to cling onto the small details.  I question everything.

Do I really remember what your hand felt like in mine?

Can I really hear your laugh, full and bright?

Is this pain the equal and opposite of how much you loved me?

My clothes are waiting for me; I laid them out the night before.  All black except for one thing.  You.

I’ve deliberately chosen to wear a roll neck sweater, you told me you loved me in it, your hand would skim over the tight knit fibres to the small of my back.  Today it is a disguise.

The thin lycra feels beautiful against my skin, the deep blue at contrast with my hair.  It’ll never look good on me, but that’s not the point.  You wore this rash vest the first time we went surfing.  I had to peel my eyes away from you as it contoured over your perfect form.  It still smells of the sea.  It still feels like you.

We both knew that day we were falling.  How often had we caught one another looking?  Never with embarrassment just knowing smiles.

In the surf, chaos around us, you held me in your arms, anchored and safe.  I saw the pull in you.  I wanted it too.  If I could have stopped the wave that crashed over you, I would have.  Anything to kiss you.

The wave washed away the moment but our smiles knew our truth.

            ----------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t expect this.

The view from the cliff top path is spectacular.  The beach seems endless; stretching out so far the mist swallows the headland at the other end.  I can’t believe how quiet it is, eerily silent, the sea smooth as glass.

I can’t even see the sand, hundreds of people stand in rows.  Line after line after line, I had no idea you had touched so many.  I’ll have to walk past them all.  Through the aisle that’s been created, Alliance blue carpet bisecting the crowd.

Isla and Kate stand at the top of the steps that lead down to the shore, Nea is clinging tight, balanced on my sister’s hip.  All three look exhausted, Nea’s eyes are red and swollen.  None of us can speak, we don’t need to.

Nea twists in Kate’s arms, reaching for me.  I nestle her close, feeling her small form shuddering from the tears she’s trying to keep back.  She’s swamped by the hoodie you left her at Hogmanay.  The fabric has bobbled but it’s lost none of its softness, even though I know she rarely takes it off.  I bury my face between her crest and the hood, breathing in her innocence and her loss.

Looking up I see them for the first time and I feel the breath leave my lungs.  Kate notices.  Taking Nea back and the trio taking the steps to join the rest of the family.

Hand in hand.  Emerging from the mist.  My knees go weak and my hand moves to cover my mouth.  I don’t know why, maybe to hide the trembling of my lips or to try and hold in the grief that threatens to spill from me.

I’m staring at them both, I can’t help but see you reflected in two parts.  Your Mother’s hair the same intense black as yours, her eyes filled with your passion.  Your Father stands tall; I see where you get your build from now.  His silver hair is vibrant against his deep tan skin; he carries the marks of the elements.  I know before I reach him that he’ll have the same scent as you, he’ll taste of the ocean. 

He moves with the same awkwardness you did, he’s a man of the water.

I hadn’t noticed straight away, you had to look closely.  It was only after that summer’s day on the shores of Lake Basel that I understood.

It was hot, even in the early pre-dawn; the smooth pebbles cooled our feet as we headed into the water.  The freshness in my mouth felt divine.  I clung onto the tow board watching you swim.  You pulled us out to the tiny island, no more than a large rock really.  I watched your stroke, over and over, a steady rhythm.  In water, you were literally in your element.  Your skin a shade darker, smile brighter, movements freer.  The curve of your muscles glistened with each reach.

I lost myself to you that day.  The dip of the basalt cradling us, the only view to the mountains and sky, we could have been anywhere.  As the first rays crested the peaks, it skimmed us both in gold.  I felt your heartbeat, strong and sure.  Our bodies wept for one another.  Mouths kissing away the taste of the water, leaving only sweetness.

I whispered your name over and over, as we moved together.  Your body beneath mine, always so perfect, always so right.  That was when I felt your current, the power that shifted through you, I felt the eddies and the waves, I felt your ebb and your flow.  The tides were part of you, they were your essence.

It’s almost too much to be held by your family.  The sorrow and heartbreak is choking.  They whisper words but I can’t hear them.  I’m deaf to all but you.

Your voice is absent.

            ----------------------------------------------------------

I focus on the small platform that has been erected, the gold of the Alliance insignia a beacon drawing me forward.  I can feel the eyes of the mourners on me.  Hundreds of them.  So many species, all of them standing in solidarity.

I’ve been dreading the service but I actually feel a sense of detachment.  The photograph they’ve used is your officers portrait, smart and proud, the only hint of ‘you’ is the twinkle of mischief held by your eyes. 

I don’t know enough about the Navy hierarchy to understand the significance of the Commodores and Admirals who stand to address us.  What I do understand is that there is so much I didn’t know.

The Turian engineer who speaks of your leadership during the building of the Normandy, ‘your baby’.  The nervous Asari who thanks you on behalf of the survivors of the Citadel attack whom you worked tirelessly to rescue. 

It is an endless stream of thanks and praise for a woman who drove herself to perfection. 

I’m startled when I realise you have no close friends.  You touched so many yet there is nobody here from your childhood or university.  Nobody who knows your deepest fears, your hopes  or your dreams.

Except me.

Maybe it was a symptom of being so at one with the ocean.  Everything was transient for you.  You didn’t need roots, you just drifted, albeit with purpose.

I realise now, I was your safe harbour.

            ---------------------------------------------------------

The twelve-gun salute marks the end.

Echoing shots fired out to sea, the ground shaking with each.  I try and swallow every one, holding the boom in my chest, hoping to fill your void.

            ---------------------------------------------------------

“Take her to the stars,” your Father whispers the words to me, his voice so close to yours.  I stand facing the horizon.  The heavy triangle of canvas in my fingers, the medal carefully pinned on top.  I can feel my pulse flutter against the warm metal of your dog tags.  The only thing of yours that will ever lie across my heart.

I wish the sea wasn’t so flat.  I wish I’d stood here with the others being blasted by the Atlantic squalls.  I wish the words of your superiors had been drowned out by the mad crashing of messy waves.  I want them to beat me.  I want to feel their strength against my body.  I want the violence to rip me ragged.  I want to feel you.

If a storm were raging, I could scream your name and have the wind whip it from my lips.  I want the elements to pull the agony from me so I don’t have to feel it claw at my insides.  I need you.

Instead, it is still and quiet.  I’m empty and heartbroken. 

I miss you.

God.

I thought we had more time.


End file.
